


Aozora

by awkwardedgeworth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, M/M, Miscommunication, Public drinking, Smoking, Substance Abuse, garden of words/med AU, mention of aneurysm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: "...Day drinking?"The man turns his head towards him, raising an elegant brow. Bokuto feels mortification turning his face red, immediately waving his hands, "N-Nothing wrong with drinking so early in the morning!""You must have tough shifts too, Bokuto Koutarou-sensei."bokuto escapes to a nearby park after his night shift ends, bumping into a stranger who seems to know exactly how difficult it is to be a doctor.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 80





	Aozora

**Author's Note:**

> heyo, there will be mentions of drinking, smoking (e-cigs to be specific), some substance abuse and a short mention of aneurysms. please proceed with caution!
> 
> (did i write this in ten hours and proceeded to speed edit and upload this because i am passionate about comix wave film's water animation? yes. ~~am i also thinking about a weathering with you AU? definitelyyeshahahaaaa)~~

_A faint clap of thunder, rain falling on the gazebo's roof, several empty plastic packages held down by a can of chuhai, condensation forming on the outside of the can._

_How he wishes he can go back to those days._

"—know what he's doing, being the laughing stock of the neurosurgery department. Poor Tanaka-sensei, leaving her to do all the surgeries on her own."

Bokuto peers at the grey sky, people shaking water from their umbrellas and entering the hospital, their shoes squeaking against the floors.

There's a small park off to the side of the hospital. He'll be wet, but it's better than staying in the hospital and being mistaken that he's on duty when he just had gotten off his twelve hour shift. Bokuto mutters a prayer under his breath, raises his backpack above his head and runs. The two gossiping doctors' voice fades away as his feet pounds the pavement, weeds swaying with each droplet of water that hits them.

There's a large willow tree at the entrance of the small park, near the safety of the gazebo. He ducks under it, receiving several drops of water on his head that travels down his scalp and neck.

He stops, looking up at the man sitting under the cover.

The man immediately stands up, shuffling to the side to make room. Bokuto mumbles a thanks, lowering down his bag and slumping on the wooden bench.

Just in time too. The skies flicker and the rain turns from a light splatter to a downpour, filling his ears with hard, constant splatters.

Bokuto pulls his phone out from the safety of his pockets, deleting several notifications from the lock screen. The surface of the small pond isn't smooth anymore, the branches of the tree swaying in the wind. Rain falls on the screen of his phone thanks to a breeze.

He puts it away, trying not to look to the side where the man is also sitting, but failing.

"...Chuhai?"

The man turns his head towards him, raising an elegant brow.

Bokuto feels mortification turning his face red, immediately waving his hands, "No! I mean—" The man is dressed similarly to Bokuto, with a black pair of pants that doesn't look like scrub pants until you squint closely at it and a V-neck top that is hidden under a jacket, "—Nothing wrong with drinking so early in the morning."

"You must have tough shifts too, Bokuto Koutarou-sensei."

His mouth falls, wondering how the man knows his name. Has he seen him before? 

The man smirks, a smile that matches the smooth drawl of his voice. He gestures with a long, slender finger to the badge sticking out of Bokuto's pant pocket.

Bokuto hurries to unclip it and stuff it in his backpack, turning back to see the man set the chuhai can to the side. Grapefruit Strong Zero. Personally, Bokuto prefers the Peach flavor.

The man stands, stretching. His knees pop. He gathers his plastic bag full on conbini food and gives Bokuto a small bow, heading to the edge of the gazebo.

"It's raining."

The man holds his hand out, immediately getting soaked. He turns his palms up, cupping it to the sky and allowing the rain to pool there. A stray willow leaf lands in his palms.

"At times, I find myself wanting to feel the rain on my skin," The man offers with a vague smile, stepping out of the cover. Bokuto watches as the man slowly walk away from the park, his black curls matting to his skull, raincoat becoming slick.

Bokuto watches until his small figure turn the corner. The rain continues to fall harder, the tiled floors becoming wet. 

_A faint clap of thunder, clouded skies, perhaps rain comes, if so, will you stay with me?_

Bokuto sighs, walking to the park with a bag of alcohol in his hand, wondering just where his life had started to fall apart when he sees the weird Chuhai Man again, this time wearing a different set of scrubs in a dark blue color.

"Good morning," He mumbles, shuffling in and pulling down his hood. 

The plum trees are starting to bloom and the air mixes well with the smell of the earth and flowering bushes. His mother had texted him that morning a picture of her hydrangea bush. Bokuto had complimented her, wanting to say more before he was dragged out of the break room when a no code patient showed.

The man gazes at his bag, "Good morning," He's snacking on a bag of dried squid, can in one hand, book in his other hand. The paperback is covered with a cloth cover, so Bokuto can't see what he's reading. It's thick though, probably around three hundred pages.

"Do you work at that hospital?" Bokuto gestures to the helipad that can barely be seen over the tree canopy. The park is like a little bubble, blocking out sounds of the morning traffic. He clears his throat, projecting his voice over the downpour, "You're wearing scrubs and all."

The man nods, "You too, I assume."

Bokuto turns pink and stuffs his badge in his backpack again, forgetting to take it off.

"Are you always here?"

The man shakes his head, "Not always...just when I need an escape."

Bokuto nods, deciding that he's bothered him enough. The man goes back to his book. 

Bokuto pulls out his laptop from his backpack and places the laptop cover on his lap, opening several papers he needs to read through. The English mocks him, and he reads the same sentence fifteen times before he decides that he's too tired, slamming his laptop shut.

He leans his head back, close enough to the edge of the gazebo that several drops of water collecting around the back eventually falls on his forehead like a cold, persistent tapping.

He opens his mouth, inhaling the petrichor.

"Bad shift?" The man's voice enters his ears as Bokuto opens his eyes to catch a butterfly struggling to fly, "I've had my fair share of those."

"A patient died this morning," Bokuto says, still leaning his head back. The rain falling on his forehead felt nice. It's ruining his hair though, he can feel his gel drooping, pulled down by gravity. "There's a lot of things that are demanding in the ER. I'm the senior resident, so...."

He trails off, not wanting to unload to a complete stranger. He stares at the wooden beams of the gazebo instead, wondering if it was built in the traditional style of shrines without screws but interlocking joints.

"It must be hard."

Bokuto sits up, watching the stranger blink at him, book resting on the bench next to him, popping another can of chuhai. There are already three cans next to him, presumably empty, holding down several empty packages of food wrappers from blowing away in the wind.

Bokuto's mouth speaks before his brain could process his thoughts, "You know, those things are cheap but very alcoholic. It's not good for your liver to be drinking so many."

The man points to Bokuto's own can, "I could say the same thing to you."

"This is my first one in months. You have...that's your fourth one, isn't it? How are you still standing and reading?"

"Perseverance."

"You could get fatty liver from drinking too much alcohol. And then," Bokuto recounts everything he knows about the body's largest organ for storing blood, "You could become jaundiced, your skin literally turns the color of bronze!"

"I know what jaundice is," The man lowers the can from his mouth. He sets it on the bench, looking down. Bokuto spots several grey hairs around his temples, wondering how old he is, "Medicine is hard, sometimes we need to pick our poisons."

He does however, pull out a bottle of water from the plastic conbini bag on his other side and guzzles half of it. Bokuto watches as he studies the man closer. His dark circles, short nails and a need to drink tells him that he's burnt out and overworked.

"Happy?"

Bokuto pulls some electrolyte sports mix from his own conbini bag and hands it to the stranger, who sighs and accepts it. 

"It should be the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

The man clears his throat, taking a swing of Pocari Sweat, "I believe you saved Hyuuga-san, who is a scrub nurse with Neurology, from losing her baby when she was caught in the car crash several months ago?"

"Um...yeah, that happened."

"I'm her senpai, she texted me what happened after she was discharged. Word travels. You're very famous in that department, Bokuto-sensei," The man says with a smile, "Good work for detecting preeclampsia quickly. And dealing with her superficial wounds from the crash, of course."

"Ah, so you're a colleague of hers?"

"Yes, we work together. Or used to work together before she went on maternity leave," The man pulls out his phone and shows him a picture of a snoozing baby wrapped in blankets, "The baby is healthy thanks to you."

Bokuto feels a smile lifting his cheeks, looking out to the greenery. The man stashes his phone away, sipping his drink.

No matter what sort of night he had, he always felt better if he saw his patients walk out of the hospital healthy. It made all the suffering worthwhile.

"Are you a night shift nurse?" Bokuto asks the man, who is holding out his bag of dried squid. Bokuto takes one, chewing a stringy, touch tentacle. "You drink in the morning so I assume it's after your shift."

The man avoids the question with a shrug, "I'm a coward."

Bokuto makes a face at his cryptic answers, wondering if the alcohol had finally hit him.

"Look," The man steps forward. He braces a hand on the back of the bench, knee beside Bokuto's conbini bag, the other leg on the ground. Bokuto inhales, catching a faint whiff of laundry detergent from his dry jacket.

The man looks down at him, eyes soft. Behind his glasses, his eyes are a grey-green. If someone were to show Bokuto a color like that, he would have brushed it off as boring, a dull color, like seaweed that washed up on shore.

But his eyes sparkles as he turns Bokuto's attention to a pair of brightly colored birds taking shelter underneath a nearby bush, pointing out the characteristics of the male and female. He lists off the vegetation nearby as well, the different types of flowers planted by the city, the specific type of hydrangea that is currently growing next to them.

"Um."

"Yes?"

"I have lots of questions."

The man gestures for him to go ahead.

The man is six years older than Bokuto, currently 34. His favorite color is a dark blue ("Like your scrubs?") that's not too vibrant but also not too dark, dark blue like the midnight skies before dawn breaks. It's a color Bokuto sees often these days, so he knows exactly what he's talking about.

He went into medicine because he'd gotten an aggressive form of leukemia as a child and received a bone marrow transplant that saved his life. 

"I'm very thankful to my donor," The man says, playing with a hangnail on his right hand, "I try to repay it back, but...you know how it is. This job is suffocating. Sometimes all you want to do is to runaway and pretend you don't exist in the world."

And coming to the park week after week felt like running away, in a sense. June came and went. Bokuto greets July by giving the man a container of cut-up watermelon he stored in the break room's fridge, both of them munching away as the man rattles off again the different types of flowers that bloom during this season.

Bokuto tells him the crazy things he sees in the ER between 7PM and 7AM. The man gives a hoarse chuckle when Bokuto appears one morning with a bruise on his face, wondering how that happened. The chuhais and cans of alcohol slowly stop appearing.

The man has a beautiful smile.

They have an unspoken agreement that the man's job isn't something to be talked about. Bokuto finds that refreshing sometimes, because as much as he likes saving lives and learning about what shenanigans Konoha and Kuroo saw during their dayshifts, talking about work outside of work can be crushing. Instead, they talk of length about countries they've vacationed in, high school memories, sports, hobbies....anything.

He could listen to him talk all day, with his quiet voice, soft vowels and calm expression. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when he fell for him.

One time, Bokuto took his break in the park to watch dawn rise, needing to get away from the hospital. The man had been sitting there too, hands shoved in his pockets as his head bobs to a pair of earbuds. He immediately opens his arms for Bokuto to slump in, knowing what happened from the tears in his eyes.

They kiss just as dawn breaks. Bokuto pulled away first from the pager that went off in his pockets, stumbling back. The man is also flushed.

"Will you be here when our shift ends?" Bokuto asks, walking rapidly backwards and trying to shut off the incessant beeping coming from his pocket at the same time.

The man promises, face as red as Aomori apples. He then yells out a warning when Bokuto trips on a tree root and falls backwards.

Sometimes they go to a Sukiya for breakfast. Most of the time, they buy things from the nearby conbini and watch the ducks swim in the pond on a nice morning. Bokuto doesn't need to fill in the silences, cherishing every moment. Everything felt like a very delicate balance, the meetups, the morning rain, the condensation that formed on the outside of the cans.

The man gazes out of the gazebo, frowning. The rain had just let up. It's suppose to be the last week of the rainy season according to the JMA.

Bokuto shifts his backpack on one shoulder, yawning, "Don't like the sun?"

"No, I prefer the clouds," Another vague, mysterious answer that gives Bokuto more questions.

"Do...do you want to get some ramen together?" Bokuto swallows, shooting the question in the dark and hoping that the man will say yes. He knows they've kissed more than once already, but....

The man blinks.

"I...really enjoy our conversations these past months. And I'd like to get to know you better. It'll be my treat," Bokuto adds softly.

The man smiles at the water, voice gentle, "You should go home and sleep, Bokuto-sensei, night shifts are tough."

The rejection stings even though it was delivered in the kindest way. Bokuto nods, looking at his shoes and wondering if he should have changed out of his scrubs to his street clothes to appear more grown up or something. He taps the shiny tiles with a foot.

When he raises his head up, the man is already halfway out of the park, walking away with his bag of conbini snacks in one hand.

Bokuto looks up to see the man walk away from the gazebo, umbrella in hand. He's twisting his mouth up in a smile, wearing a pair of expensive looking black dress pants and a white shirt that is half soaked, his pale shoulders peeking through the fabric.

It turns out that the JMA had been wrong. They're having an odd rainy season this year that's lasting until August.

"Leaving first? You look fancy today," Bokuto squishes down a part of him that is sad to see him leave, meeting him halfway on the trail that spans from the park entrance to the gazebo. He's hoping he could...fix whatever rift he's caused between them, even though it seems unlikely.

Today marks the end of his night shifts. He'll be working days for two months before going back to one month of nights. Normally, he would rejoice, he belongs to the sun, he isn't made for red-eye shifts that leaves him bone tired as he goes against his body's Circadian system.

The man gestures to the bench to where a canvas bag sits. He gives Bokuto a nod, walking away, "I have somewhere to be. I just want to pass that off to you."

"Oh, sure?"

The man smiles, jogging away.

Bokuto goes to the bench, shaking the water off his umbrella and peeking inside.

A stack of medical notes and previous board exams for Emergency Medicine, two bottles of Pocari Sweat and a lone onigiri sits inside.

He places his lunch tray on the cafeteria table, sighing.

"Welcome back to the light side," Kuroo crows in his ear, "That was your last night shift of the year right?"

Bokuto looks outside, wondering how time manages to leap forward so quickly. He could have sworn it was July last time he checked, the forecast showing a week of rain and high humidity. He nods, breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and quickly inhaling his lunch.

Konoha makes a face in front of him, sipping his miso soup calmly, "The food won't run away."

Kuroo shakes his head, cheeks bulging, "We're ER residents, we get pulled into cases more than Cardiology. Meian will have our heads if we don't move quickly."

Konoha gives them a deadpan look, brushing off rice that Kuroo had accidentally spat onto his face calmly. Bokuto savors the rich taste of beef curry, placing down his bowl briefly to look at the weather outside again even though he'd just glanced at the window.

"You're spacing out a lot these days."

He turns to Konoha, who has a chin in his hand, gazing. Bokuto looks at the December rain splattering Tokyo, ignoring a group of surgeons who had just came in, making a ruckus, "Just wondering when the rain will let up."

"Nah, it's his crush on that nurse," Kuroo snidely remarks, laughing, "He keeps going to the park in hopes that they'll bump into each other. And you've asked the nurses in Neurology right? They don't know a nurse who looks like that. Maybe he moved away."

Bokuto makes a despairing sound.

"You never asked for his name?"

He shakes his head, looking at the rice grains. Perhaps it was time to give up, "It's okay, he wasn't interested anyway."

"Odd," Konoha mumbles as the noise in the cafeteria rises. A group of GS surgeons are standing to their feet and shouting in the corner, "Maybe you got his hospital wrong, Bokuto?"

"I pointed to our hospital though," He pokes his carrots dully before getting fed up with the commotion. "What are they yelling about?"

Konoha stands, ID lanyard swinging as he gawks, " _No way_."

Bokuto and Kuroo glance at each other, immediately standing up as well. Bokuto turns, since he's sitting with his back to the entrance of the cafeteria, to find several surgeons surrounding a man with glasses, wearing a set of familiar dark blue scrubs as he's holding a cafeteria tray in his hands.

"—Showed up here like this after months of no contact? Who do you think you are? Where is your pride?!"

" _Anahori!_ " A woman with short, chin-length black hair snaps. Bokuto stares, he's never seen Tanaka-senpai raise her voice like that, "Enough is enough!"

"Akaashi-sensei came back?" Konoha mutters.

"Who?" Kuroo asks. Bokuto is still standing, feeling the corner of his mouth sticky with curry sauce, staring at the Chuhai Man wearing a white coat on top of his scrubs, his ID lanyard swinging from his neck, a pen fed through the loop. 

"You've never heard? There are only two neurosurgeons in this hospital because Yamiji-sensei and Hito-sensei retired last year. Tanaka-sensei had to do all the surgeries on her own because one day Akaashi-sensei never came to work. He's been missing for months now, apparently. That's what Anahori tells me," Konoha gives the surgeon a sour look, "It's quite irresponsible of him. Some of the surgeons here think he should have been fired a long time ago, but he's too valuable to the hospital."

"—Made you all those surgeries all by yourself and pull ninety hour work weeks with no rest, Tanaka-sensei! He should be ashamed of himself!" Anahori continues to yell, the cafeteria silent as nurses and doctors alike watch the commotion with an open mouth. "What kind of surgeon runs away from his patients? What oath did you promise to follow when you graduate, Akaashi-san?!"

Akaashi flickers his eyes throughout the crowd, face passive. The only real emotion he's showing is the white-knuckled grip he has on his tray and his clenched jaw.

"How long has he been missing?" Bokuto clears his throat.

"Half the year," Konoha scoffs.

Akaashi meets his eyes, eyebrows shooting upward.

Bokuto stares at him, mouth flat.

"The cafeteria," Akaashi says in an even tone, turning back to the man foaming at the mouth, "Is no place to be fighting. I'll listen to you in my office, Anahori."

Akaashi turns his back, pacing out of the cafeteria. Anahori follows him. Tanaka Kiyoko looks at the cafeteria, bowing and apologizing for the ruckus their department has caused, rushing after them with the clack of her heels slowly fading away.

The bubble bursts. Bokuto is reminded of a downpour as voices floods his ears, Akaashi's name being repeated over and over again like a tidal wave crashing down.

Outside, it continues to rain.

"I'm here for the Neurology consult," Someone greets, pulling aside the curtains.

Bokuto looks up from the non-responsive patient to Akaashi's face. Beside him, Hinata, a sixth year medical student who had been jabbering away as Bokuto quizzes him, grows silent, immediately sensing the distrust in the air.

Bokuto clicks his pen light off, stepping back as Akaashi comes around the other side, clicking on his own pen light and lifting open the patient's eyelid, "The patient is a thirty year old male pedestrian who collapsed in Shibuya Station, someone started resuscitation immediately within two minutes. Rapid metabolic panel shows elevated lactic acid and respiratory acidosis. Unbalanced electrolytes, we've hooked him up to an IV to bring it back down. His Glasgow scale is 3. The CT results should be out soon."

"Did you do a toxicology screen?" Akaashi waves his penlight in front of the pupil. It's not constricting.

"No presence of drugs," Bokuto had initially thought an overdose as well, "No relevant medical history."

"Is his family here?" Akaashi looks up from the patient, reaching for the sanitizer mounted on the wall and quickly rubbing his hands thoroughly until the gel dries.

"Not yet."

Yachi rips open the curtains, causing Hinata to jump, "CT is out!"

Akaashi immediately goes to a free computer station in the middle of the department, Bokuto and Hinata hot at his heels. His fingers are a blur across the keys as he logs into his account and pulls up a series of grey and black pictures.

Bokuto stares at the profile of Akaashi's face, the coldness of his features as he studies the computer screen, his black hair smoothed away from his eyes, several grey strands visible. It's hard to believe that he never realized this surgeon existed, as it was always Yamiji, Hito or Tanaka responding to consults.

"Looks like an aneurysm, you can see the bleeding here," Akaashi spins a corded phone towards himself, putting the receiver between one ear and his shoulders, fingers stabbing the buttons, "I'm booking an OR room, can someone call Neurosurgery and let the head nurse know to prepare the room for me?"

Hinata chirps, rushing off to find a free phone. Bokuto walks away, already pulling admission papers and pre-operation documents to gather into a folder for the man's family when they arrive.

Someone taps his elbows. Yachi points to the emergency room entrance, where a young woman shivering in a thin coat and what looks like her younger brother, dressed in a high school uniform, stumbles in, looking around with confusion.

Bokuto squares off his shoulders and moves forward to greet them with a quiet smile.

Akaashi finds him in the park. Bokuto looks away from him, blowing smoke out of his mouth. He's made sure to change out of his scrubs and tucked his ID away this time.

"I never knew you were a smoker." 

Bokuto puts the e-cig away, mouth tasting vaguely minty, "This is my poison of choice."

They look out at the pond's surface rippling from the wind. It's dark now, with office towers around them still shining brightly even after 7pm. There's a distinct holiday cheer in the air as couples walk side by side around the body of water, ignoring them.

The hydrangea bush that Akaashi had pointed out to him half a year ago has died. Its branch are now flowerless, the trees around them too, are bare save for the few evergreens.

The gazebo has a string of fairy lights curled around it. Bokuto avoids looking at Akaashi's face, fingers itching for something to do.

"How long have you been smoking?"

"Just for a year. The final year of residency is tough," Bokuto can't hold back, "As you know, I'm sure."

The man beside him doesn't speak. Bokuto looks at where the tiled floor of the gazebo had caved in slightly, a puddle of water sitting and reflecting the fairy lights up to his eyes. He feels calmer now after smoking for a bit. 

"I apologize for hiding the truth from you."

Bokuto shrugs, not caring if Akaashi can't see it, "You didn't seem sorry when you were stringing me along. You knew from the start that I was a resident. I thought you were a nurse or something."

"...I was running away as cowards do."

Bokuto turns his head.

Akaashi pulls off his glasses, staring at the tiled floors. His lashes make shadows underneath his eyes, high lighting the dark circles even more, "I'm ashamed of what I did. It felt good to speak to you, a complete stranger who didn't know who I was."

"Then why did you even wear scrubs?"

"I thought if I wore them out of the house I could trick myself into going to work. Instead, I discovered this park entirely by accident."

When Akaashi tilts his head up, he looks a decade older, the fine lines around his eyes and forehead pronounced in the fairy lights as his breath comes out in puffs, curling around his head.

"Did the patient live?"

"No. He's brain dead. We were too late," He speaks evenly, pulling out a tab of candy from his pocket and tossing several in his mouth. Bokuto watches as his jaws work, crunching it.

Bokuto watches as he stands.

"I've said what I came to say," Akaashi bows to him, scarf dangling out of his winter coat. It's from one of the many expensive stores he saw in Ginza. It makes sense now, the little pieces of wealth Akaashi has on him that's very subtle to the untrained eye, "I'm very sorry for stringing you along."

He begins to walk away, his back becoming smaller and smaller as he passes through lamps lining the side of the trail. Bokuto wants to run after him, head racing with missed opportunities and how he's willing to give him another chance.

But he's tired.

So tired.

_A faint clap of thunder, even if rain comes not, I will stay here together with you_

He sprints, leaving his backpack on the bench. He inhales the crisp winter air, the wind stinging his eyes as his feet pounds the frozen dirt trails. He feels every pebble pressing against his soles. Bokuto reaches forward, spinning Akaashi around as the man moves like a rag doll, caught by surprise.

"Akaashi-sensei," Bokuto pants, "You...you're terrible for doing what you did," He swallows, watching the pink in Akaashi's cheeks rush to his face and knowing that no matter how cold he seems in the hospital, the memories he has of Akaashi in the park during summer were genuine.

"You're terrible, but I still want to like you...." He trails off, watching the streetlamps make Akaashi's eyes glow. His eyes are the color of the ocean, mysterious and unyielding, it could be clear on good days and murky during dangerous nights. He forgot what he wanted to say.

"Ramen," Akaashi rasps, looking up from under his lashes and laughing hoarsely, "What about ramen? I owe you a date, if you want to call it that."

Bokuto shakes his head, "Not yet. You're paying. I want two bowls."

Akaashi doesn't seem to despair at his rejection, squaring his shoulders back and tilting his chin up, "Of course. Whatever you want."

Bokuto releases him, stepping backwards and watching as the breeze reddens Akaashi's ear, hair stiffly moving thanks to the gel holding it in place.

He leans forward, kissing him on the cheek, "I'll get my bag."

He turns away, running to the gazebo. He pats his hot cheeks with cold hands, pressing them against his skin and turning back to see that Akaashi has remained in the same place he left him, blinking evenly, cheeks also flushed.

They walk out of the park together, shoulders bumping, breath mixing with each other in a cloud trailing behind their figures.

Bokuto hands Kageyama a cup of hot decaf, sitting in the cafe of the hospital as several other residents are dozing on the couch.

Kageyama snaps to attention, mumbling a thanks and trying to keep his eyes open.

"Just switched back from nights?" Bokuto asks, grinning. He plays absently with his wedding band. It's always fun to see how each medical student passes through their two weeks of nights rotation in each department.

"Yes, it's...an experience," Kageyama struggles, sipping the coffee and quickly setting it down. "Hot!"

"Let me know if you need to nap in the middle of the day today. I know Meian is your attending, he'll allow it for sure," Bokuto kindly says, "But asides from that, how are you finding the hospital?"

Meian had recommended him to be the student coordinator for Emergency Medicine. As such, Bokuto's responsibility now is for his department, patients and students that pass through it. It's hard some days, to sit with an open ear and realize what each student is going through with their personal lives, but he offers as much support as he can.

Kageyama struggles to find words, playing with his nails instead.

"...It's overwhelming, isn't it?" Bokuto starts.

Kageyama looks up, eyes wide. He slowly nods, looking down and away from Bokuto's face.

"You know, I knew this doctor," Bokuto pulls a memory out from his brain, "He ran away in the middle of the year because things got too overwhelming for him and he needed to step away. I want to prevent that, that's why I'm here. If you need support, I can listen to you."

" _He ran away?_ "

"Bokuto-san."

Bokuto turns around, looking up and seeing Akaashi dressed in a midnight blue shirt and a pair of black slacks, his ID lanyard swinging in front of him, "Akaashi! Meet Kageyama, he's the fifth year medical student from Todai. Kageyama, this is Akaashi Keiji, he's the new Head of Neurosurgery."

Akaashi bows his head, "I can come back later if this is a private conversation...?"

Kageyama immediately makes room for him on the couch, "N-No! I've heard many things about you, Akaashi-san! Please sit down with us!"

"Good things I hope," Akaashi says with a wary smile, setting his tea down.

Bokuto leans in, "Hey, hey, I was telling Kageyama about burnt out. There was a doctor here once who ran away from his job, right?"

"There was. We're trying to change how the hospital is being run currently, it's not good if everyone is worked to the bone. There's mandatory paid vacations now that all staff must take. Do you like parks, Kageyama-san? There's a nice one nearby."

"I-I like to run," Kageyama admits, still staring at Akaashi in awe, "I know this is an abrupt question, but are you currently accepting neurosurgery residents?"

Akaashi's smile grows, "We are."

"Hey, that's not fair, Emergency Medicine hasn't had a resident in over two years," Bokuto chimes in.

"That's too bad. Neurosurgery hasn't had one since Anahori joined the team and that's six years ago."

Kageyama stares at them. Then he looks to their hands and identical rings. He blinks, opening his mouth and turning pink. 

Bokuto grins, making the shh gesture as Akaashi rolls his eyes, "Keep it a secret."

Kageyama stands up straight, "I will! I'll...be going for a jog now, I'll be back in time for our evening rounds!"

Bokuto waves him off, Kageyama rushing out of the cafe as he sighs tearfully, "They grow up so fast."

"They're not your kids, Koutarou."

" _Keiji_ ," He whines, "I can't believe you stole another potential resident from us again."

Akaashi shrugs, grinning, "The more neurosurgeons there are, the more we can share the workload. As of now, ER has twice the amount of doctors and residents compared to us," He checks his watch, "I have twenty more minutes. Do you want to go to the gardens and walk?"

"You read my mind," Bokuto says, steering him out of the cafe. Akaashi giggles when Bokuto takes him to an empty hallway, looking left and right before kissing his cheek quickly.

"You don't need to hide it you know," Akaashi says, looking into his eyes once they've pulled away, "People know my reputation as the runner. Kageyama deserves to know the truth if you really think he'll pursue neurosurgery."

"You _were_ a runner," Bokuto tucks a strand of hair back into Akaashi's swept back style, "People need to move on and forget. I doubt the board would elect you to be the head if they were adamant to stay in the past."

Akaashi smiles gratefully at him, tugging him to the exit. They stand in the atrium, the floor to ceiling windows splattered with rain.

Bokuto grins in delight, pushing the door to the gardens open as they stand in the overhang, listening to the drops falling on the ground. The garden is lush with bushes of camellias blooming everywhere, raining down pink petals on the ground, "I love it when it rains!"

"Me too," Akaashi smiles, looking up at the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> it felt...kind of good to write these med AUs? i'm weary of writing them now because the last thing i want to do when i get home is thinking about the hospital but as bokuto says! work-life balance! smell the rain! feel the rain! be the r a i n
> 
> stay safe, wash your hands, cover your mouths when you cough/sneeze and wear a mask!


End file.
